


Happy Valentine's Day, angel

by impalawinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pie, Smut, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalawinchester/pseuds/impalawinchester
Summary: A shy, awkward Cas wants Dean to be his Valentine.  After a little confusion, sexy times ensue.





	Happy Valentine's Day, angel

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first smutty fic, lmk what you think!! 
> 
> (happy valentine's day btw)

Castiel clutched the bouquet of flowers tightly in one hand, the apple pie balancing on top of the chocolates in the other. He was relatively immune to holidays and other events celebrated by humans, but he couldn’t miss Valentine’s Day. There were hearts and chocolate everywhere, and public displays of affection were equally balanced with sulking women. 

Also, Cas had seen a pie stand on the way into town, boasting the best pies that side of the Mississippi. So he’d bought a pie, stopped at a convenience store to buy the rest of the items, and mustered all of his courage.

Just as Cas was about to knock on the motel door, Sam called out to him from behind. 

“Cas, what are you doing here?” the younger Winchester asked, getting out of the Impala with takeout. He glanced at Cas’ gifts and cocked his head to the side. 

“Did Dean ask you to pick those up or something?” Sam asked and moved to get his room key out. Cas stopped him. 

“No, I got them for Dean myself. That’s what you’re supposed to do on this holiday, correct?” Cas worried he had it all wrong, and now Sam was chuckling, and Cas felt like an idiot. Shame had to be one of the worst emotions he still remembered from humanity. 

“You’re going to ask Dean to be your Valentine?” Sam asked and smiled at the angel. 

“That was the plan,” Cas grumbled, looking deflated. Sam instantly moved forward, straightening his jacket but unbuttoning his shirt. 

“I know my brother, so I think your plan is going to work out,” Sam assured him. Then he mused Cas’ hair. Cas shot him a questioning look.

“Like I said,” Sam explained with a shrug, “I know my brother.” Cas’ feet reminded planted, his eyes huge and staring at Sam in a kind of emotional agony. Sam turned him towards the door and nudged him forward. 

“Go kill it, tiger,” Sam encouraged, “I’ll go for a walk.” And then he did walk away, down the street towards town with the takeout bag in hand. 

Cas swallowed and took a step closer to Dean. He reappeared in the room, back practically touching the door, eyes wide as ever and he had a death grip on the presents for his prospective Valentine. 

Dean emerged from the bathroom, and he was the same Dean Cas had always known. Funny, how this single human had gotten through his angel instincts in the span of a few years, out of the millennia lifespan Castiel had already lived.

“I thought you were Sam,” Dean said. He leaned sideways to look out the front window. 

“Where the hell is my takeout?” Then he turned to his bag and pulled out a fresh flannel. 

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked and retrieved a beer from the cooler they kept in the room. 

“Dean, I want to ask you a question,” Cas said carefully. 

“If that question is: do you want some pie, the answer is yes.” Dean held his hand out for the goodies. 

“Why do you have flowers? Is there a special stripper someone you’ve got your eye on?” Dean wagged his eyebrows, but Cas didn’t break a smile in return. 

“Dean, please,” Cas practically begged. He was getting anxious. 

“Okay, okay, Cas, ask away,” Dean said, sitting down with the pie in his lap and taking a forkful directly out of the box. He groaned in happiness and closed his eyes as he chewed. 

“Will you be my Valentine?” Cas asked. He waited in agony as Dean laughed at the supposed joke, looked at Cas’s face to see the angel was serious, and then he stood slowly. 

“Cas, what are you talking about?” 

“I would like you to be my Valentine, because I view you romantically and I acknowledge that you are not a homosexual and this vessel is male but my angel form is technically non-gender conforming –"

“Cas, hold on.”

“Is this unexpected?” Cas asked, brows scrunched up above his eyes, “and have I been incorrect in my thought that this was a mutual feeling between us?” Cas was past ashamed at that point. Dean was obviously shocked, and the feeling certainly were not mutual. He was a total moron. He only hoped Dean would forgive his ignorance to human sentiment, as usual. 

“Cas, Cas, hold on, you’re getting ahead of yourself,” Dean said and took the flowers and chocolates from his friend. Then he put his hands on his shoulders.

“Forgive me, Dean. I’ve obviously made a mistake.” 

“A mistake? I wouldn’t call this a mistake,” Dean answered, so close to Cas that he could feel his breath on his cheek. Dean was temptingly close, those green eyes boring into his, his body only inches away. Was Cas misinterpreting again? 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Cas asked quietly, uncertainly. He didn’t want to make another error.

“Not kissing you, unfortunately.” Cas stood frozen, Dean’s warm hands on his shoulders, one slowly sliding to his neck and then up to his cheek. Dean bit his lip, rubbed his thumb across the angel’s jaw. 

“Can I kiss you, Cas?” Dean murmured, eyes half-lidded, voice rough and wonderful.

“Yes, Dean.” 

And so Dean did kiss Cas. And it was just Dean. It was just Dean’s lips, soft and warm against his own. Just Dean’s hand cupping his cheek. Just Dean’s teeth bumping into his every so often when he’d smile against Cas’ mouth. It was just Dean, but Cas didn’t need anything else. 

“I’m your Valentine,” Dean mumbled into Cas’ neck with a chuckle. His hands slid under Cas’ trench coat, around to his back, and he tugged him closer still. 

“And I yours,” Cas reminded him, carefully touching Dean back. He’d only ever been this close to a woman before, and he wasn’t sure if the same rules applied. 

“Cas, I want you,” Dean told him, attacking his mouth a bit more aggressively than before. Cas’ mouth fell open, letting Dean lick his way inside. 

“Do you mean sexually?” Cas asked, seeking solid confirmation. Although he vaguely knew that humans preferred to ‘go with the flow’ and feel the moment, the angel sought a straightforward communication. He wanted to get this right. 

Dean chuckled. 

“Yeah, I mean sexually.” And with that settled, Dean slipped off Cas’ coat, pulled off his flannel, and kissed his angel again. Cas could tell Dean was savoring it, maybe even taking it slow for Cas’ sake.  
He removed Cas’ tie carefully, tossed it to the side. Then went his jacket and belt, and the buttons of his shirt one by one. 

“I guess I should say that I love you,” Dean said rather abruptly, breaking the kiss and looking anywhere but at Cas. Cas smiled. 

“I love you, too, Dean.” The two stared at each other for a few heavy, fleeting moments. Maybe it was because they were both too scared to continue, scared that it would be harder to lose the other in the new context, scared that it wouldn’t work. 

But it had to work. They were family. They were more than family and damn it all if that wasn’t enough. 

So Cas surged forward that time, clinging to Dean as he kissed him, desperate for more, desperate to have all of Dean, because he’d waited long enough. 

He made quick work of Dean’s tee shirt, his belt and jeans falling to the floor soon after. Cas’ fingers slid over Dean’s shoulder, over where the scar was from the time he raised him out of hell. 

Cas touched his forehead to Dean’s. Closed his eyes. Let himself feel. He could see the future – Sam coming back from the walk and sleeping in the car while they enjoyed themselves for once, the three of them against the world, all of it going up in a bloody mess. But it didn’t matter, because Dean was here. Dean was his. And that was all he could ask for. All he needed. 

So when Cas finally moved, it was to drag Dean over to the bed, to push him down onto it and climb on top of him although he really didn’t know what he was doing. Turned out he didn’t have to. Dean pushed his boxers down and pulled his face close so he could kiss him. 

Cas found himself on his back, Dean chuckling at his surprise as he lost his own briefs. 

“Angel, you’re all mine,” Dean growled against Cas’ neck, and Cas gasped. He was Dean’s. He was finally Dean’s. And Dean loved him. Dean Winchester loved Castiel.

Dean Winchester was kissing his way across Cas’ shoulders, simultaneously grinding hips down into the bewildered angel. Cas’ hands all at once clutched at Dean, scraping blunt fingernails down his back, body arching up to meet Dean’s mouth. 

“Dean,” he groaned, finger sliding through Dean’s short hair. His mouth fell open in a moan when Dean’s hot, pink mouth latched onto his nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud with fervor. 

Cas grabbed at Dean’s ass, his hand sliding down to Dean’s thigh so he could pull Dean’s knee into his side, encourage him to grind down harder, encourage him to get on with it. 

Dean sat up when Cas did that, straddling Cas’ lap, his left hand curled around Cas’ hip while his other stroked his length. He bit his lip and Cas whined in desperation, sitting up to touch Dean again, suck his cock – anything. He was desperate for Dean. Couldn’t get enough. 

“Nuh uh,” Dean said with a tsk, pushing Cas back down with a hand on his stomach.

“You just relax. I’ll take care of you.” 

“I need you, Dean. Now,” Cas demanded, though his voice faltered and betrayed him. Dean chuckled, released his rock-hard cock, and leaned down so his lips just brushed against Cas’ ear. 

“Begging already? Cas, sweetheart, we got all night,” Dean promised, though he knew that they wouldn’t make it very long. Dean was electrified with Cas, completely overwhelmed that he finally had his angel all to himself like that: stretched out between his thighs, begging to be fucked. 

Dean reached over to the bedside table, where he already had lube out, just waiting for the random one-night-stand he had previously planned to bring back to the room that night. He squirted some on his palm, slicked up his fingers, and, holding Cas close, pushed the first digit inside. 

Cas gasped at the intrusion, body going tense under Dean, fingers clawing at the sheets, the pillow, Dean – whatever he could get his hands on. 

“Okay?” Dean asked, up to his second knuckle as Cas squirmed beneath him. 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas managed. He spread his legs wider, hard cock brushing against Dean’s stomach as he spasmed. The invitation was undeniable.

Dean slid his whole finger into Cas, groaning at the heat, the tight muscle, the way Cas’ face was scrunched up in pleasure. He nibbled on Cas’ ear as he pumped his finger in and out of Cas, slowing adding a second finger, then a third. 

By that point, Cas’ dick was an angry red, and Dean was in the same situation: his own member was crying out for attention, throbbing with lust. A stream of moans was slipping out from Cas’ lips, along with labored breathing through the intensity of it all. 

“Dean, please. I need you to – I need…” Cas fumbled for words, legs spreading wider still for the Winchester. Dean never seen anyone look so gorgeous, flushed beneath him. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Dean asked, voice rough with arousal. He nipped at Cas’ lips, at his jaw, then his sensitive nipple, already raw from the previous biting. 

“I want you to fuck me, Dean,” Cas finally gasped out. 

Dean wasted hardly any time slicking up his cock with a generous helping of lube, sitting back on his heels to do so. Cas was watching him, taking in every inch of Dean’s body with greedy eyes. It sent another rush of want to his dick. 

“Fuck, Cas, I want you so bad.” 

“Take me take me take me take me-” Cas whimpered out. 

And Dean did. He lined himself up with Cas’ entrance, and with one quick motion slid inside of the angel, eliciting another gasp from Cas, while his own body shook with need, with the resistance, with an overwhelming desire to come. 

He grunted at the feel of Cas’ ass clenching around him, the way his back arched off the bed. Dean felt the stretch inside of Cas, his body straining against Dean’s length, and he almost came just from that. 

He waited a moment for Cas to adjust, let the angel relax beneath him, before he began to move. 

Slow, even thrusts, each producing a grunt from him and a moan from Cas. Dean reached between them and teased Cas’ cock, running his thumb over the sensitive head, cradling his balls. 

It was total bliss, the combination of sounds coming from the two men, the slip and slide of Dean’s cock into Cas, the slap of skin hitting skin, the rock of the bed beneath them, surely disturbing their neighbors. 

“Dean, oh, Dean-” Cas whispered into Dean’s neck, coming undone beneath his Valentine. 

“I’m so close, sweetheart,” Dean told him, panting into Cas’ shoulder, thrusts quick and deep into Cas, and each time he hit the angel’s prostate, he felt Cas shiver with pleasure beneath him.

“Climax, Dean, please…”

Dean tugged on Cas’ cock one more time and Cas peaked, body shaking with the orgasm, mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ while Dean’s drives into him grew erratic. He came hard inside of Cas, spurting out semen into him, thrusting through the high and then the aftershocks while Cas gasped for air beneath him. 

Both men were seeing stars, and Dean’s shaky arms could hardly hold him up above the mess on Cas’ stomach. But Cas didn’t seem to care. He pulled Dean down onto his chest, the two of them soaked with sweat with come trapped between them in sticky lines. 

Yet to listen to Cas’ heart pounding from the orgasm, to feel his arms holding him close, to be able to be with Cas, was worth the mess he’d have to clean up in a few minutes. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Cas whispered as his breathing began to slow. Dean chuckled into Cas’ neck. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, angel.”


End file.
